Charlotte Hanbury: An Autobiography

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Marshall brothers, 1901 - 236 páginas
 

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Página 227 - When in dust and ashes, To the grave I sink, While heaven's glory flashes O'er the shelving brink, On thy truth relying, Through that mortal strife, Lord, receive me, dying, To eternal life.
Página 217 - Though faith and hope are often tried, I ask not, need not, aught beside ; So safe, so calm, so satisfied, The soul that clings to thee ! 788.
Página 192 - JESUS loves me ! this I know, For the Bible tells me so ; Little ones to him belong, They are weak, but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me, The Bible tells me so.
Página 218 - O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? . . . Thanks be unto God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Página 20 - Once they were mourning here below, And wet their couch with tears; They wrestled hard, as we do now, With sins, and doubts, and fears.
Página 216 - Go, return each of you to her mother's house. May the LORD deal kindly with you, as you have dealt with the dead and with me. 9 The LORD grant that you may find a home, each of you in the house of her husband!" Then she kissed them, and they lifted up their voices and wept. 10 And they said to her, "No, we will return with you to your people.
Página 227 - Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear sister here departed, we therefore commit her body to the ground ; earth to earth .... ashes to. ashes .... dust to dust...
Página 230 - For every good deed of ours, the world will be the better always. And perhaps no day does a man walk down a street cheerfully, and like a child of God, without some passenger's being brightened by his face, and, unknowingly to himself, catching from its look a something of religion, and sometimes, not impossibly, what just saves him from some wrong action.
Página 99 - Because thou hast been my help, therefore under the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.
Página 146 - MANY have told of the monks of old, What a saintly race they were ; But 'tis more true that a merrier crew Could scarce be found elsewhere ; For they sung and laugh'd, And the rich wine qua MM, And lived on the daintiest cheer.

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